


Out Like a Light

by onward_came_the_meteors



Series: October 2020 Prompts [27]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, One Shot, POV Third Person, Post-Avengers (2012), Power Outage, Sharing a Bed, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:14:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27227911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onward_came_the_meteors/pseuds/onward_came_the_meteors
Summary: It isn't Thor's fault that the power went out.Really.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Clint Barton & Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark & Thor
Series: October 2020 Prompts [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947679
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41





	Out Like a Light

**Author's Note:**

> Day 27, for the prompt "power outage"

The team stumbled inside the cabin, and for a couple seconds there was only the sound of rustling as each of them took it in, peering around each other’s shoulders and over the top of heads cramped together in the doorway.

Then Tony broke the silence. “This... is it?”

Thor shifted Steve’s weight against his shoulders and privately agreed. He was currently standing with his head ducked to avoid hitting it against the sloped ceiling, and the doorway was so narrow that they had all been forced to go single file—difficult to do when they were trying to get out of the raging downpour outside.

Thunder rumbled in the distance even as the thought crossed his mind, nearly drowning out Natasha’s voice as she stepped further into the cabin, tentatively as though expecting the floor to collapse underneath her—which, judging from how old and creaky the wooden boards were, Thor wouldn’t rule it out.

“The people at the desk said this was the only one they had empty.”

“I know, I was there.” Tony brushed a few strands of rain-soaked hair back against his head. “Although I am harboring some skepticism about that particular claim, because who in hell actually  _ seeks out _ the chance to stay in one of these—” he waved his hand around for a moment, apparently indicating the entirety of the tiny space jammed with a single bed, a ratty couch, and a table leaning heavily on one bent leg, before the right word came to him “—shacks, in the middle of nowhere? In a thunderstorm?” he added as lightning flashed out the rain-pelted windows.

“Us,” Thor pointed out. “So we’re lucky this one was available.”

Tony made a noise under his breath and almost stepped into Bruce, pivoting at the last second. Bruce didn’t seem to notice; he was practically asleep standing up—one step away from Steve, who was leaning heavily on Thor’s shoulder. Clint was lurking in the back, kicking his feet halfheartedly against the drenched mat on the floor.

It had been sprinkling a few hours earlier, when they’d assembled and boarded the quinjet, and it hadn’t turned into all-the-way raining until they’d reached their destination (Thor still didn’t know where they were: somewhere with a lot of trees and not a lot of rest stops. When he’d asked, Clint had made a vague noise). Fighting evil robots was a little harder in weather like that, but Thor had—by necessity—been fighting in the rain his entire life, and together, the team had scraped out a victory—and as a bonus, the rain put out all the fires. As soon as they’d trekked back to the jet, however, they’d found it to be a smashed wreck, and of  _ course _ that was when they heard the first telltale rumble of thunder.

Desperate times called for desperate measures; and the exhausted, injured, muddy, and absolutely drenched-to-the-bone Avengers were pretty desperate.

“It’s called camping,” Natasha finally said.

Clint snorted. “No, it’s not. If it’s got a roof, it’s not camping.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re one of those people.” That was Tony again, and Clint only smirked back. “You guys make it really hard to complain.”

A slight weight lifted off Thor’s shoulder as Steve raised his head. There was a wet spot where the rainwater from his hair had dripped onto Thor’s cape. “Good.” It was the first word he’d spoken since he’d gotten clocked in the head by a giant robot arm during the mission.

Tony glared at him, but his heart wasn’t really in it, and he went to go sit down on the ratty couch instead. His feet left wet footprints as he padded across the wood floor.

“There’s probably something living in there,” Bruce observed. His voice sounded mild, but Thor knew it was because he was about three seconds away from dropping.

Tony jumped up like he’d gotten burned. “Are you  _ sure _ this is the only piece of civilization around here?” He addressed the room at large.

Thor grinned in spite of himself. “Aren’t you the one with the artificial intelligence?”

“Suit’s dead, so no JARVIS. I thought we covered that.”

They had. Many times on the way here, when they’d been having the sort of argument only six extremely burned-out superheroes could have. There had been tears.

“Nearest town’s all the way down the mountain,” Clint rattled off, repeating what the people who owned the camping site had said. “So unless you wanna walk there—” A strong gust of wind howled against the trees outside, and everyone started “—this is our only option.” He shrugged. “At least it’s got a shower.”

“Mine.” Tony bolted for the bathroom door, as though any of the others were somehow not dead on their feet and might actually race him for it.

In Stark’s defense, when the Iron Man suit had been quite literally ripped apart during the fight, he’d gotten flung face-first into a mud puddle—and looked it, even though the rain had washed some of it off.

Although none of the rest of them were quite as muddy, everyone had been thoroughly soaked. Even though he knew he hadn’t caused it, Thor felt a bubble of guilt every time thunder cracked.

The sound of a shower sputtering on started from the bathroom, and apparently that was enough to make the realization sink in: that the mission was really over, that they were really staying the night in a one-and-a-half-room cabin that was smaller than  _ half _ his room back at the tower.

Everyone collapsed in various places. Bruce was the first one to claim the bed, falling flat on his stomach and rolling himself up inside the blanket until only his head poked out. Natasha followed him a moment later, but she managed to restrain herself to the edge of the bed, one of her legs crossed over her knee as she pulled off some of her outer layers and started to wring out the rainwater. Clint half-sat down, half-dropped onto one of the two chairs that were crammed in on either side of the table that was really just the size of a nightstand, leaning heavily forward with his forehead in his hands and making an incoherent noise at nothing. He’d lost exactly one of his hearing aids during the fight (Thor hadn’t seen what had happened, but the fact that half of Clint’s face was a bruised mess gave him a general idea) and had been attempting to listen with only the one, but now he gave up and dug that one out, depositing it on the table and slumping over it.

That left Thor and Steve with the couch that may or may not have been inhabited, but Thor was a little more concerned about the captain’s head injury than possible mice. Steve was still blinking a little more than was normal, and there was red crusting his blond hair even though he was no longer actually bleeding.

“Are you all right?” Thor asked.

Steve leaned back against the cushions. “Give me half an hour and I’ll answer.” He paused. “Are  _ you _ all right?”

Thor could hear the challenge in Steve’s voice that meant he was really only asking the question to turn the focus off himself, but nodded anyway.

Thor didn’t get hurt like the rest of them did (he wasn’t so proud as to say  _ never _ , not anymore). That was all there was to say about it. That was what made some of their missions so difficult, when he had to watch it happen to the others, wanting to help but unable to. The truth was, he wasn’t even all that great with Asgardian medicine, and that was his own species. Squishy little humans were best left in the care of other squishy little humans.

Unfortunately, the only doctor on the team was currently passed out cold on the bed.

A little snore came out of the pile of blankets Bruce was currently cocooned in, and Natasha put a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. Not that it would’ve woken him up anyway.

She glanced toward Clint, and her brow creased, but she didn’t say anything. Clint didn’t look like he wanted to say anything himself (He never did. Thor was almost convinced that if Clint Barton didn’t have to spend so much time around other people, he would simply not speak at all), so it worked out.

Natasha caught Thor watching her. “How’re you holding up over there?”

“I’m fine. I just explained this to the ca—” Thor turned to indicate Steve, but stopped midsentence when he noticed that Steve had listed sideways and was fast asleep. “Hey, stop that. Wake up.”

He shook Steve’s shoulder for a bit until he startled awake. His hands automatically shot out and smacked Thor in the arm, which might’ve stung if he hadn’t still been wearing his armor.

“Apologies for waking you,” Thor said. “But you can’t fall asleep with a head injury.”

He glanced up at Natasha to confirm this, and her mouth quirked.

Steve looked at him for a moment. “This isn’t anything to worry about, you know—I’ve survived worse.”

That last part was sarcastic, but one of Thor’s favorite parts about interacting with mortals was how they believed him without fail when he pretended not to grasp sarcasm. “I know.”

Apparently, Steve wasn’t quite sure what to do with that, so he flopped backward against the couch. His uniform was still soaked through with rain, and the white star was sticking to his chest.

Steve, like Thor himself, wasn’t affected as greatly by the cold, but both Clint and Natasha were shivering just slightly, even though they were trying to hide it. Unfortunately, the only pair of extra clothes they’d brought with them was the one currently being worn by Bruce after he’d torn the first to shreds.

_ There’s got to be something around here. Somewhere. _

Thor stood up, shooting Steve a look to stay put, and started exploring around the cramped cabin.

There wasn’t much to explore, and so it was hardly a minute later when he stumbled upon success: a narrow closet containing one flashlight, one pack of batteries, and two messily folded flannel blankets. Thor took the blankets and left the rest.

He offered one to Clint first, and when the archer didn’t take it, he tossed it so that it unfolded in midair and settled over the top of Clint’s head. Clint gave a surprised yelp, but grudgingly pulled the blanket around him.

The other blanket he handed to Natasha, who muttered a barely audible “Thanks” before curling up inside it. She was completely on the bed now, right next to the Bruce-shaped pile of comforter with her back against the pillow and her feet pressed up to her body.

Out of blankets, Thor turned back to Steve on the couch, who seemed less out of it, but still very, very wet. He wanted to warm him up somehow too, but the only other option was—

As if on cue, Tony appeared out of the bathroom, much cleaner and fresher than when he went in, although he was still wearing the same clothes.

“Oh, I didn’t know we were having a slumber party,” he said, and Thor followed his gaze to Bruce and Natasha on the bed. “You two look cozy.”

Natasha stuck one finger out from under the blankets.

At that moment, Steve caught sight of the unoccupied-ness of the shower and jumped to his feet, breezing through the bathroom door with a hasty “Anyoneelsewannagofirstnookay.”

Tony took Steve’s space on the couch just as another crack of thunder split the silence. Everyone looked at the ceiling nervously as the lights flickered once, but stayed on.

Just then, Steve poked back through the bathroom door (still fully dressed, thankfully). He looked put out, and so Thor wasn’t surprised when his eyes went straight to Tony.

“You used all the shampoo.”

Tony had been midway through stretching his arms behind him as a headrest, but straightened up. For once, he looked genuinely confused. “I only used the one packet.”

“Yeah, there was only one packet in there.”

There was a snort from Clint’s corner, and Thor, Tony, and Steve all glanced briefly at him before Tony spoke again.

“Really? That thing was tiny.” He shrugged. “Next time, I’ll know.”

Steve made a noise in the back of his throat.

“Hey, didn’t you grow up in the Great Depression—”

The door slammed.

Thor could feel the grin spreading over his face, but did his best to remain innocent-looking, just in case Steve popped back out again. He watched Tony sprawl himself across the couch and felt his own eyelids droop.

It really had been a long day. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt if he took a quick…

* * *

When Thor woke up, it was to a series of startled yelps and one crash. His not-quite-awake brain connected that with  _ fight _ , and Mjolnir was in his grip before his eyes were even open.

Then he registered that the whole room was pitch-dark.

Because the power had gone out.

Naturally.

The crash had come from the general direction of Clint’s corner, where there was now the sound of someone dragging a chair upright. Blankets rustled and springs creaked from the bed as both Bruce and Natasha were evidently awake.

Then the bathroom door cracked open, and Steve’s voice was the first to break the silence. “Guys?”

Thor confirmed it even as the last vestiges of sleep left his brain. “Yes. It appears the power has gone out.” Statement of the obvious, but what else was there to say?

Tony’s voice was muffled, sleepy, still waking up. “Wasn’you?”

“ _ No _ ,” Thor said emphatically, and a tendril of lightning sparked out from Mjolnir’s handle. Which, incidentally, did not help his case, but it did help to briefly illuminate the others’ skeptical looks.

“Promise?” he tried.

There was a clatter and a scraping sound, and Steve opened the bathroom door fully and stepped out. “Jeez, Barton, stop moving before you hurt yourself.”

“Listen,” came Clint’s disgruntled response, and another chair scraped against the wooden floor. “I already couldn’t hear, and now I can’t see. This is not my day, okay?”

“But you can hear us now,” Thor said.

“Yeah, I put my hearing aid back in. Background noise is gonna suck, but—” Another crash, this time like someone had tripped into something.

“Okay, stop,” Steve said. “Just… come over here. The couch is right… uh… “

Thor and Tony spoke in unison. “It’s right here.”

There were two sets of footsteps, and then the cushions were sinking down as Clint and Steve both sat.

The couch was distinctly less roomy now that it held four people, and Tony grunted almost immediately, “Get your knee  _ out _ of my stomach, Rogers.”

“Sorry, I can’t see you.”

“I thought the serum enhanced your night vision.”

“That doesn’t make me a bat—”

“‘Course not, then there’d be copyright issues—”

Thor remembered something and stood up, walking away while Tony and Steve were still arguing.

It was harder to find the closet again in the dark, and when he picked up the flashlight, he accidentally turned it directly on Clint’s face.

“Hey! Rude.” Clint held his hands up in front of his eyes until Thor redirected the beam of light.

“Sorry.” Taking another look at the maximum-occupancy couch, Thor sat down on the edge of the bed and absently pointed the flashlight up at the ceiling. The only other light came from the windows, where lightning would occasionally interrupt the steady pitter-pitter-pattering of rain.

Natasha’s face appeared, lit from underneath, and she looked from Thor to the flashlight before grinning slightly and holding her hand out in front of the light, extending two fingers. Up on the ceiling, a shadow of bunny ears took shape.

“The deadly Black Widow, everybody,” Tony said dryly.

There was another mighty clap of thunder seconds after a brilliant flash of lightning lit up the windows. Thor felt the bed shake as both of its other occupants jumped. A few moments later, Bruce—who was awake now and huddled under his blanket—scooted closer to the flashlight, mirroring Natasha’s unconscious movement.

Thor looked over to what he could see of the couch from the little circle the flashlight gave off; the other three had moved as far apart as they could, but at the thunder they were all looking more tense than they wanted to admit, eyes darting toward corners and windows. Thor suspected a combination of post-battle adrenaline coupled with the fact that, well, they were in an all-but-isolated cabin in the middle of nowhere with the power out.

So he patted the mattress. “Why don’t the rest of you join us? Plenty of room.”

Tony’s grin looked eerie and hooded in the light from the flashlight. “Context really is everything sometimes.” He did slide off the couch, though, and a moment later he was up on the bed and settling next to Bruce, who leaned into him.

A few seconds later, Steve was dragging Clint onto the bed as well, despite heavily exaggerated grumbling, and then all of them were up there and  _ huh, this was interesting. _

It was a large bed, though, and eventually pure exhaustion won out over everything else.

They dropped off one by one, their guards relaxed as that little circle of light still glowed up to the ceiling like a miniature moon. Thor ended up in the middle, somehow, right in the crack between the two pillows. There was no way for him to move—not that he wanted to move; he hadn’t realized just how _ cold _ it had been outside until he was underneath a blanket and surrounded by warmth from all sides—not with Steve pressed up against one side, his head carefully angled to avoid jostling his wound, even though by now the serum should’ve taken care of it; Natasha on the other, curled into a ball and her breaths already moving slow and even; Tony and Bruce, who were squished together on the edge (so close to the edge, in fact, that Tony had to throw an arm around Bruce and over to the mattress just to make sure he didn’t fall off, but Bruce pulled him in closer and he could let go); and Clint, somewhere at the end of the bed and squirming around as he tried to get a blanket over him.

It was warm here, and secure, and… safe. The first time all day that they  _ had _ been safe.

Even as the thunder continued to boom outside, none of them had trouble falling asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
